


A Fight for Love and Glory

by SerpentinaShana



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Golden Age Hollywood, Heartbreak, Love Confessions, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentinaShana/pseuds/SerpentinaShana
Summary: The mortal realm has been at war for 199 years. And then, one evening, the woman who broke Hades' heart happened to walk back into his life unexpectedly...
Relationships: Ares/Persephone (Lore Olympus), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	1. The Same Old Story

Smoke swirled in the room, heavy and thick, as piano music played. It seemed appropriate to Hades, as he contributed to the haze by lighting his own cigar. 

So much had changed since the war. No, not the first war— that was with the Titans, ages ago. That time, Hades had felt bold and victorious. This time around, there seemed no end in sight… and the King of the Underworld felt he had nothing to fight for, anyway. 

It started innocently enough. The “new god” wasn’t on anyone’s radar until a large enough group formed near Israel. From that point on, it spread like wildfire— and in Hades’ opinion, the mortal realm had spiraled out of control. 

Christianity— and all of the fighting that came with it— was taking a toll on the pantheon at this point. Olympus was in the middle of it all, and tensions between Zeus’ crew and the mortal realm were at an all time high. 

But that wasn’t of any interest to Hades. Sure, he couldn’t escape the conflict that surrounded him, permeating life like cigar smoke— but it kept him busy, it kept him financially stable, and it kept him distracted…

From thinking about her. 

In times like these, it was important to be flexible— for the inflexible fail, inevitably. As the Underworld started to feel the strain from the pressures of this “spiritual conflict”, Hades had to adapt. Ever the businessman, his newest venture was fulfilling (and involving all of the blue god’s favorite vices). 

Once an Underworld dance club, the building stood vacant when the King snatched it up at a bargain price. Few could afford the luxury— or be carefree enough— to enjoy a “club scene” nowadays. What people needed now was a different sort of escape, and Hades was happy to provide it— and expand his investment portfolio.

What was once a dark room full of strobe lights and body sweat was now something much more to his taste— warm woods, rich bourbons, Rat Pack music on a soft piano, and this never-ending haze of smoke. 

Truth be told, it had become his favorite place to be. He rarely went home now. All the shades in the underworld were under his control, but the shade in his house haunted him and cared nothing about his pain. 

His normally-taxing job was now the strain of two jobs. Running the Underworld Corporation would have been too much for anyone but himself, as the influx of shades from the crusades was almost crippling to his current resources. He knew that there were gods on the ground in the mortal realm, like Athena and Ares, attempting to handle it— but they were 199 years in the thick of it, and Hades never saw a break from the influx of death. 

So, truth be told, he preferred to have his vision blurred and senses dulled, sitting in the back of his bar. Listening to Hermes play the piano was soothing, and the place was almost classy enough— you’d never know it was a haven for sneaking people out of the mortal realm, and into Olympus. 

Hades was never one to miss an opportunity, after all. And what is more neutral than death? Death never cared who you fought for, or for what cause. There was no better place to play the “neutral card”, because once you die, there is no point in fighting over religion anymore. 

It seemed like any other night, when Hermes began to play… that song.

Suddenly, the smoke was choking him, and the alcohol burned in all the wrong ways. Hades stood up, knocking over his chair as he stormed towards the piano. 

“I thought I told you to never play th…” he spat from his lips, suddenly stopping as he made eye contact with the woman on the other side of the red god.

For a moment, the cloud in the room almost glowed pink— and from behind it, was Persephone. 

“Hello, Hades,” she simply said, her eyes unreadable. 

So much time had passed— and for a moment, time stood still. 

Suddenly, time unfroze itself and caught up to them. Hecate was behind him, approaching the table with a bronze figure. “Ah, you were asking about Hades, and here he is,” she announced to Persephone, pulling out the chair for the guest with her. “Hades, I’m sure you remember Persephone and Ares.”

How could he forget? He’d do anything to forget, actually. 

Haunted by the color pink, everything reminded him of her. Slowly, he had replaced each neon of that color in the Underworld— and it was a hefty task, for there was no shortage of pink, blush, rose, magenta, or fuchsia light in a land of endless night. Everyone knew why the color was disappearing, one bulb at a time— but no one dare say a word. 

And yet, still… when he closed his eyes, he saw pink. 

Seeing her sitting next to Ares, though, the pink began to darken into red.

“Join us for a drink?” Ares suggested, as graciously as he could muster. 

“Oh, Hades never…” Hecate began, as the king cut her off. “Thanks, I will,” Hades heard himself mutter as he pulled himself out a chair. 

Hecate stood in shock. “Well,” she said. “A precedent is being broken this evening. The boss never drinks with his own guests.” She pulled out the fourth and final chair for herself. 

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about what you’re doing down here, Hades,” Ares said, snapping Hades out of his own mind and back into the conversation. “We appreciate the… extra mile you go for your customers, and might be looking for a little “extra help” ourselves,” he added. 

Hades looked over at Persephone, who was gazing deeply into her own drink.

“I’ve heard a great deal about your work in the mortal realm as well, Ares,” Hades countered, against his better nature. “There’s a lot of fighting, and I’m sure it’s kept the God of War busy.”

Ares lips attempted a smile, at odds with the tired look in his eyes. “This has gone on for longer than most. Mortals normally don’t have this much… passion,” he said, thoughtfully chewing on the last word.

“I didn’t expect the conflict to last this long,” Ares admitted. “To continue to keep my wife with me, as dangerous as things are right now, is selfish.”

Each word of the last sentence wounded Hades, as if he stood across from the war god on a battlefield himself. 

HIS wife. It cut as sharp as any blade.

It wasn’t so long ago that the King of Diamonds dreamed of putting his own stones on her finger. She had come to Olympus— and later, the Underworld— not long after the conflict on Earth began, with the goal of completing her studies and experiencing the world. 

The moment Hades saw her, however, his own world was never the same. It started a spiral that would turn into a whirlwind. She BECAME his world. 

‘I need to obtain safe passage to Olympus for the two of us,” Ares was continuing. “I need to regroup with the pantheon, and reassess our strategies. Athena excels at strategy, but this seems to be a war of… passion.

“Which is my forte,” he added. “With this awareness now, I think I have a game plan to end the war soon— for good. I need to meet with Zeus.”

Ares looked over at Persephone, who had lifted her eyes up and was quietly gazing in Hades’ direction. 

“Also, I think Persephone needs to be in Olympus in these final throes. It won’t be safe for her in the mortal realm.”

Hades swirled his drink. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said.

There was a pause within the group’s chatter, and Persephone took advantage of this brief, awkward moment to be brave. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it Aideonus?” she asked, refusing to look back at Ares’ reaction to her using the name. 

“Yes, I suppose it has,” Hades slowly drawled, uncomfortable having to relive private moments in front of unwelcome eyes. 

It seemed so long ago to him, and if he was being honest with himself, it had been too good to be true. To think that she could love someone such as himself— well, he was a fool, he supposed. It was all a blur of velvety flowers petals and midnight blue silk to him now— when he wasn’t engulfed in the smell of cigars, cigarettes, and booze, he could almost still smell the ghost of their floral fragrance…

All the more reason to stay in the haze of the bar. 

“The last time we saw each other was…” Persephone said, refusing to let him cut the conversation short.

Hades cut her off, uncomfortable with the conversation’s turn. “The park in front of Tower 1— yes, I remember it vividly.”

He remembered every detail. She showed up in the lightest shade of blue, under the stars, and they spoke in hushed tones of their plan run away. Tensions were rising in the realms, and the war with mortals was getting worse every day. Uncertain of what the future held for anyone, including themselves, the two lovers had planned to sneak away and wed in secret.

Bitterly, he recalled their plan to meet at the train station at sunrise to carry out their plan… and when the clock on the Underworld Corp towers rang 12 times for noon, he finally gave up on her and headed home. 

The pink goddess had met him as a broken man, and made him whole again— only to crush him, leaving him in more pieces than she had found him. She disappeared without a trace, and he had only heard her name in the hushed whispers behind his back since then. 

“Well,” Ares huffed, scooting his chair back quickly and standing. “I hate to say it, but it’s getting late.” Hecate— who always the one for rules— stood as well. “Yes,” she said. “We have a curfew now here, and it wouldn’t do for me to go around breaking my own rules.” 

Ares smiled a knowing smile at the goddess of magic, as he reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Hades stated, grabbing their bill as a server approached. “It’s on the house.”

Yellow eyes searched his face as Hecate’s mouth dropped. “Another precedent broken,” she said with speculating wonder. “This is proving to be an interesting evening.”

Bronze and pink merged as arms linked, and Ares nodded his head. “Thank you, uncle. We’ll stop by again soon?”

“Anytime,” Hades replied, wondering who he had angered to deserve this level of torture. 

———————————

Hecate came back into the lounge, and made a bee-line straight for Hades. “We have to get them passage out of here,” she demanded. “It’s the best chance the realms have of ending this nonsense. Can you handle the arrangements?”

As the fighting continued and conditions worsened, all transportation in and out of the realms had been cut off. Even though the war wasn’t directly on the Underworld’s soil, there were enough refugees in his domain that it might of well have been. 

Giant blue hands fumbled with a cigar, as Hades lit it and pulled a long draw. “Maybe,” he said, exhausted from the evening’s events. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

In all the places, in all the towns, in three different realms, she had to walk into HIS bar. Over the sound of glasses clinking and quiet chatter, all he could hear was his own internal screaming. 

———————————

The lounge was silent and pitch black when a pair of eyes looked into the window. Hades was slumped over a table, fast asleep with an empty glass still in his hand. He had nights where he slept at the bar, but rarely did it ever seem as… sloppy. Most times, he drank to forget. Unlike those nights, this evening, he actually drank to remember.

Trying the door, Persephone was surprised to find it unlocked. As she tiptoed through the upside-down chairs and empty tables, she bumped into the corner of a chair— making just enough noise to startle Hades out of his slumber. 

“It’s you,” he rasped, groggily. 

Pink eyes stared down at pink hands. “I didn’t know you’d be one of the first people I’d run into here— believe me,” the goddess he once called Kore said, nervously. “Last I checked, you didn’t even own a bar.”

“Things change,” the god snorted. “Funny about your voice, though— how it hasn’t changed. I can still hear it… ‘Aideonus, I love you. I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll leave and we’ll…’”

“Don’t Hades,” she interrupted. “I understand how you feel…”

“You understand how I feel?” The king of the dead scoffed. “How long was it that we had, huh? Together?”

“I’m not sure,” the Goddess of Spring answered. “I didn’t exactly count the days.”

“I did!” Hades countered. “Every single one of them. But the one I remember the most is the last day— the grand finale. The one were I stood, like a fool, at a station platform in the morning rain… and you never showed up.”

Persephone winced as he spoke. “Can I tell you a story?” she asked, after he finished.

A laugh was his response. “Go ahead— you can make it up as you go,” he replied. 

After a deep breath, her pink lips quivered as she began. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in the mortal realm. The realm could be an ugly place— but it also could be so, so beautiful.

“Also in this realm was a spoiled, reckless man— a child in a man’s body, who never cared for anyone but himself. These two people… they met long, long ago, and helped each other grow up. They challenged each other, and pushed each other. He learned to love someone other than himself, and she was so in awe of him, she confused that feeling with love.

“And they promised themselves to each other, when they were young and ignorant,” she said, unable to look up from her own hands as she spoke.

Hades interrupted her. “Yeah, that’s sounds lovely— but I heard a story once myself,” he mumbled. “I’ve heard many stories, and many of them sound great over the sound of a piano in a bar…”

“I thought he was dead, Hades,” Kore spat. “Years ago, I thought I was in love with him— but he was always away. I was never his first priority. He was always in battle, and there would be long periods of no communication. And then, one day, he was gone. 

“Everyone said he was dead, Hades.”

She searched for the words, struggling to explain to him why she ran to Olympus— to try to become her own person, and for a chance to start over.

Red eyes stared back at her, unreadable and glowing. 

“It was always passion with Ares,” she admitted. “It was always lust in a blaze of glory… but it wasn’t love. I never really knew love until I met you.”

She dared to look into his eyes again, as a single tear began to slide out of the corner of her eye— betraying the brave face she’d put on to confront him. “Hades, I tried to stay away. I thought I wouldn’t have to see you again. I tried to give us some sort of second chance for happiness…” 

Unable to continue, she abruptly stood up from the table and turned away from him. “The night we planned to run away together, I came back to chaos. He was there, waiting for me— a ghost of a man I had promised to marry, ready to pick up where we left off.

“You deal with shades every day, and have for centuries. I came home that night— ready to start my life with you— and came face to face with the shade of the man who was supposed to be my fiancé.”

The memory haunted her— entering the room in the dead of night, and seeing the glimmer of bronze in a chair in the dark corner. Doing a double take at the specter of a man who fought wars in hopes that it made her proud. Looking into the eyes of a warrior who fought to stay alive, with only thoughts of her to bring him home. This man— a god, who had crawled through blood-red trenches, with only visions of flowers to keep his resolve. A man, who pulled through years of anguish—falling asleep, unsure of what the next day would bring—just for the chance to breathe in her floral scent once more. 

“I felt so guilty, darling. He loved me, but I had mourned him and moved on,” she whimpered. “What I did, I did out of duty. I did it out of guilt. I have always tried to do the right thing— even when I end up making a mistake.

If you knew what I went through. If you knew how much l loved you, Aidoneus— how much I still love you,” she cried, as she grasped for the edge of the table.

The chair scraped and toppled over as the King of Shades rushed towards her, taking her into his arms. He hated every word she had said thus far, and wished he had never heard any of it. Yet, it was also every word his soul yearned to hear, spilling off of her lips and drowning him in his own emotions. 

He took a deep breath in, and her scent overwhelmed all of his senses. Every molecule of air that touched her rosy body was enchanted with her unique gourmand scent— roses, but with a touch of spring pear and deep, warm notes of vanilla and caramel. It was intoxicating, instantly making Hades feel more drunk than the strongest liquor he’d ever tasted. It was the smell that woke him up in the middle of the night, floating in empty rooms that she hadn’t been in for years. 

His lips met hers, and suddenly, he wasn't just breathing her into his lungs— he was consuming her whole. She melted into his arms, passionately needing the man she loved and had been denied. 

Whether it had been a minute or an hour, neither one could say. Once the two finally pulled away from each other, gasping for the air they had stolen from each other, they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. 

Two people would be leaving the Underworld the following day, and escaping the hell that was this reality.


	2. A Case of Do or Die

The table was hard and unforgiving as Hades opened his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position at the hands of alcohol— but for a moment, he wondered if it had all been a dream. 

Persephone was nowhere to be found in the lounge, and he questioned whether or not the previous night’s conversation had even occurred. He stood from his seat, and heard a distinct crunch under his shoe.

His foot— sore from another night of sleeping in his shoes—landed upon a small flower in a particular shade of blue. The bud was one of many in a trail of forget-me-nots, leading out the door. 

It wasn’t a dream. 

———————————

The bar was quiet, gearing up for another busy evening of spirits and music, when Ares wandered in. Spotting the God of the Dead headed towards his office, he quickly followed him up to the private quarters where Hades kept his books. 

“Good afternoon, Uncle,” the bronze god said, his wife nowhere to be seen. “I’d like to have a word with you.”

“We meet again so soon?” Hades questioned, lighting a cigar he pulled out of the desk drawer. He knew he was going to need it— his nerves were still shot from yesterday. “What can I do for you, nephew?”

Ares fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve, the hint of a wound peeking out from underneath. Seeing the blue god notice the lesion, he gruffly hid it. “It’s nothing— just a cut,” he stammered. “Getting here wasn’t exactly easy.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if this is all even worth it,” Hades lamented, leaning back against the wall. “I mean, what is everyone even fighting for?”

Ares looked at his relative’s face, trying to hide his surprise. “You may as well question why we breathe,” he stated. “If we stop breathing, we die. But if we stop fighting… the world will die.”

Huffing out a puff of smoke, Hades laughed ironically. “I’d expect that from a war god, I suppose. I’m barking up the wrong tree here. At least we’d all be out of our misery.”

“Do you know what you sound like?” Ares snapped. “A man who is trying to convince himself of something that even HE doesn’t believe.

“Each of us has a destiny,” he continued. “For good, or for evil.” He looked Hades up and down. “Do you even realize you’re trying to escape from yourself?” 

Hades hastily snuffed his cigar out. “I guess I’m not the only one trying to escape around here.” Quickly walking towards the door, Ares latched on to his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I need to get us out of here, Hades,” Ares quietly said. “I know you can do it. And I’ll pay you whatever it takes.”

“I don’t need—or want— your money,” Hades retorted, a flash of red searing across the room. “I’ll get your damn papers, but only to get you out of my realm. Helping you is the last thing I should do.”

Dropping the arm he held, Ares stood stunned. “W-why?” 

“Ask your wife,” Hades spat, turning on his heel and walking towards the exit. 

“I KNOW YOU LOVE HER,” Ares shouted after him, stopping him dead in his tracks. “You don’t fool anyone. If you won’t do it for your own blood… then at least do it for her.”

The King of the Underworld stood still, back to his nephew, for a few moments. “Be here at 2:00 a.m.,” he said—without emotion—over his shoulder, before continuing out the door. 

———————————

It was a foggy night, and the humidity in the air soaked into everything it touched. Ares and Persephone used the cover of night as they rushed quietly through the streets into the bar.

Hades and Hecate sat waiting at a corner table, the silence between them finally breaking as the couple walked in. “There you are,” Hecate mused. “I almost thought you two had changed your minds.”Ares scoffed as he looked back towards Hades. “There’s no turning back now— not after how difficult this was to arrange.”

Tucking the cocktail napkin he had been nervously twisting into his pocket, Hades cleared his throat and directed his attention to Hecate. “Would you please call the airport and make sure the plane is still on schedule?” Hades looked outside to the gray haze, cursing the misfortune threatening his plan. “This looks thick, and I want to make sure everything is still as planned.”

As Hecate and Ares crowded around the phone, Persephone stared longingly at Hades. He seemed to have aged since she first saw him next to the piano— and honestly, she felt older herself. What was an already stressful time in her life was only made worse by their chance meeting here. She had resigned herself to a life of forgetting about him— and remembering was something she didn’t expect. 

As they got into one of Hades’ cars to head to the airport, her nerves began to kick in. Was she making the right choice? If it wasn’t, then why did it feel so right? This was her chance for a do-over.

The plane sat alone on the runway, and the airport was eerily empty— a ghost of the former monstrosity it used to be, shuttling throngs of travelers to and from the realms. Persephone grabbed her purse as she made her way out of the car, following the others. 

“Do you have the forms?” Hecate asked, looking over at Hades. He slowly pulled them from his coat jacket, and handed them over to his friend. 

“These aren’t filled out— and they can’t board until they are,” Hecate commented, irritated at the holdup. She pulled out a pen from her jacket and started to fill in the names herself. Persephone’s palms began to sweat, dreading the looming confrontation. 

“Fill it out for Ares and Persephone, and hand it to the pilot,” Hades said stiffly, as Ares began to board the plane. 

Persephone’s jaw nearly hit the ground, as she couldn’t believe the words coming out of Hades’ mouth. Had he changed his mind? Was this some sort of trick? Hades met her eyes, an expression in them she couldn’t understand. “Why my name, Hades?” Persephone asked, hushed and masked by the sound of the plane’s engine starting up. 

“Because you’re getting on that plane,” Hades replied, grabbing her by the shoulders. “And I’m staying here with Hecate until the plane gets safely away.”

Persephone tried to pull away from him— tried to make sense of what he was saying. “But last night, you said…” 

Hades pulled her back towards him, looking deeply into her eyes. “Last night we said many things, Kore. But the fact is, you’re getting on that plane with Ares— where you belong.”

Persephone felt panic flood her senses. She knew, deep in her soul, that she truly loved Hades. The thought of leaving him a second time was too much for the fragile ruins of her heart to handle. 

Time was of the essence, however. Sensing how hesitant and distraught she was, and knowing how “out of hand” she could get if she lost her composure, he knew he had to reason with her. “You’ve GOT to listen to me,” he urged. “Do you have any idea what you’d have to look forward to if you stayed here? 

"Inside of us, we both know that you belong with Ares. You belong in the light… you are the embodiment of life. You’re an essential part of his work— the thing that keeps him going.” Hades took a deep breath, and kept forcing the words he didn’t want to say out of his mouth. “If that plane leaves the ground, and you’re not with him… you’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon, and for the rest of your life.”

Tears began to flood the corners of Persephone’s eyes. This wasn’t the rejection she initially feared— but in a way, it felt even worse. 

“You were never meant to be with me, Kore. I’m the God of the Dead. You’re everything that I am not.”

Persephone flinched at his self-depreciating words, knowing he was wrong. “If I’m everything you’re not, it’s only because I was made to be your counterpart,” she cried, softly touching his cheek. “We were made to complement each other. And I promised I’d never leave you.”

“You never will,” Hades whispered, his eyes flashing red. “But I’ve got a job to do here, too. And what I’m doing— you can’t be any part of, my Goddess of Spring. Someday, you’ll understand.”

Persephone felt the tears begin to flow, and lowered her head to avoid his gaze. “Now, now,” Hades urged, grabbing her chin and lifting her eyes back up to his. “Here’s looking at you, Kore.”

The pink goddess stared deep into his eyes, now a searing glow of red. Duty was of utmost importance to him, and she had long-since known that fact. Closing her eyes, she tried to empower herself to embrace her own sense duty— her own promises and commitments she had made. Knowing that what was at stake was bigger than the heartache of two people in love, she took a deep breath and resigned herself to be brave. 

Ares ducked his head out of the plane, looking around in confusion for Persephone. He saw her, deep in conversation with the King of the Underworld, and made his way down the stairs to the two of them. 

“I suppose I owe you a thank you,” the bronze god said, extending his hand to Hades. “I appreciate what you’ve done. Now, we have a war to win.” He turned to Persephone. “You ready, Perse?”

Eyes full of tears, she looked up and took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m ready.” She turned to look at Hades one last time. “Goodbye, Aidoneus,” she whispered. 

“Better hurry,” Hades said gruffly. “You’ll miss that plane.”

The couple turned, and made their way through the fog towards the plane. Physically restraining himself, Hades internally screamed as he watched the two of them board the craft. Persephone watched his figure longingly from her window, until she could no longer make out the cobalt figure on the ground below her. 

Hades wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the empty sky when a voice interrupted his misery. “Well, you ARE a sentimentalist,” Hecate quirked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hades rebuffed. 

“I know a lot about women, my friend,” Hecate laughed. “She went, but she knew you were lying.”

Hades fumbled with his lighter, the orange glow lighting up the end of his cigarette. He had been smoking less and less—for her— but the past 48 hours had tested his limits. He was a god-- not a saint. “Anyways, thanks for helping me out, Hecate,” he said.

His closest friend looked him over, and sighed. The pair began to slowly walk back down the runway, slowly disappearing into the cool fog of the Underworld.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic I've ever written. I used to write a lot, but haven't written in years. Please be gentle. LOL...
> 
> And yes, it's based off of the classic film (as you can guess), and the weird mash-up I created in my head with it, LO, and the inevitable history of the crusades. I've taken some liberties.


End file.
